Crossing Lives
by Aryashi
Summary: Billions of lights criss-cross each other where He exists. He guides them to better future, tweaking things there and there. But what happens when the wrong lights... go out? College AU taken a bit more literally than usual. Rated T for language.
1. Introduction

Crossing Lives

By Silver Child of the Sea

Introduction

Something happened.

Something _He _didn't like.

Seven of the strands of light he had been watching so carefully had just curled into darkness.

It was rather pathetic, really. All it took to kill them was a mere 60 million tons of water moving at 500 miles per hour.

The Devil Fruit users had been the first to go. The sea had dragged them down, forcing the precious air from their throats and burning their eyes, making it impossible to see the surface that was so far away. Being hammers was their ultimate weakness. It seems fitting that it was their death.

The rest of the crew had struggled a great deal. It wasn't really the sea that had killed them, but the debris swirling so violently in the water. No one -not even the impossibly strong - can swim with a broken neck, after all.

_He _sighed. It would have been so easy to let them rest in peace, but they where to important for that. Their actions lead to so many different events and affected so many different timelines it was dumbfounding, even for_ Him._

So before death could get a grip on their souls, _He _gently took them in his arms.

Death was surprised. _He_ rarely interfered to this degree.

"Are they that important?" Death asked.

_He _simply nodded.

"You can't bring them back to life now. Their souls have decayed too much," Death stated.

Souls without a body are like brains outside a skull. Fragile and quick drying. They had already decayed to such a degree that it would be impossible for them to go back.

But _He _already had a plan.

_He _simply carried the sevens spirits across the trillions upon trillions of lights, all criss-crossing and interacting together but separately, to a different section of strands; to a different timeline and universe. Slowly and carefully, _He_ placed the souls into dim, newborn lights, selecting the ones that where most likely to meet when they needed to.

Feeling satisfied, _He_ observed his work.

There was the captain, forever childish, optimistic, and looking.

There was the swordsman who had never touched blades.

There was the navigator, always disgusted by her urge to steal.

There was the marksman, who still told lies dressed as stories.

There was the cook, denied his passion by others.

There was the doctor, a reindeer whose thoughts where to human.

And finally, there was the historian, searching for a history that wasn't there.

Their lives would be difficult, and they would feel forever out of place, but their souls where intact. They would be able to return and set things right, when the time came.

"What of their memories?" Death asked. "Do you not need to restore them?"

_He_ shook his head, and spoke for the first time in millennia.

"Their memories where so strongly imprinted in their souls, there was no need. They will recall themselves when the time is right.

Death nodded and left. He still had a job to do after all.

**End Chapter 1**


	2. Chapter 1

Crossing Lives

By Silver Child of the Sea

Chapter One

Larry D. Morrison (as his mother would call him), smiled boldly at the gates of Green Field university, glowing with excitement. Today would be his first day on campus and he wasn't nervous in the slightest.

Luffy (as he wanted to be called) was a tall, skinny boy with a black mop of hair, who at first glance looked like he was made of toothpicks. Upon closer examination, however, you would find that he had wiry muscles flowing under his skin. Most people failed to realize this until circumstances made him act violently, usually in attempted muggings or gym class, not that these happened very often. Luffy rarely ever got offended enough to react in an aggressive manner. He seemed forever content with life, and never seemed to get truly upset.

Luffy was always the odd one out, that kid that everybody had heard about. The first thing that made him stick out was his claim that his name was Luffy, not Larry. Whenever he introduced himself, he would say "My name is Luffy. Nice to meet you!" and smile. This almost always led to weird looks and the thought _'Is Luffy even a real name?' _When people insisted on calling Larry, he would simply not respond. The only name that would get his attention was Luffy.

The second thing people would notice about him was his complete lack of interest in girls. Some girls thought he was mysterious and cute, so he had been asked out once or twice. Every girl, no matter who she was or what she looked like, was turned down. Many people believed he had some secret girlfriend, or was gay, but he didn't show any sort of reaction to either genders. There was even an occasion where an overly enthusiastic student reporter tried to 'investigate' his interests. She came up with squat, even after anonymously sending him porn (for both genders).

As weird as he was, Luffy was almost impossible to tease. He truly didn't realize he was being insulted. For example, somebody would say "He monkey! Want a banana?" Then Luffy would smile, shout "Yes please!" and hold out his hands. The bully would then walk away, so confused you could almost see the giant question mark over their head.

Perhaps the strangest thing about him was his lack of friends. He was cheerful, kind, and easy to manipulate. You would think somebody would have gotten close to him at some point. He chatted, went to movies and hung out with a certain kid for a couple days, then he would say "I'm sorry, I don't like you," and walk away.

It was almost like he was looking for specific people…

* * *

Zach Robinson was not happy. In fact, he was thoroughly pissed off.

His parents had stopped by his college for the holidays and had (for lack of a better word) freaked. They demanded that he transfer immediately and since they were paying for it, he couldn't refuse. He still didn't see what the big deal was. The guy had been arrested before he could do anything…

Scanning the grounds, Zach couldn't help but notice this school had a lot going for it. Soft, springy grass, shady trees, a couple flower patches, all the good stuff. Shit. How could he hate a place this nice?

Zach walked quickly across the lawn, a duffel bag over his shoulder. Something about this place made him nervous. Whenever he was nervous, he got this urge to… do something… He could never tell what it was. It did make his right side feel way too light…

Zach sighed. Things had always been like this; as far back as he could remember. He always felt like some big part of his life had been cut out, and that he was defenseless. Zach didn't understand why, he was strong and could more than defend himself when he needed to. Zach was confused, and he didn't like it.

He suddenly came back to his senses, seeing that he had arrived at the front office door. Staring at the handle, some infinitesimal part of his consciousness realized that opening that door would change an immeasurable amount of things in his life, maybe even its very course.

He smiled, unsure of why, and opened the door.

* * *

Natalie stared at the handbag with hatred searing in her eyes.

It wasn't the hand-bag itself that had earned her burning stare, but Natalie's disgust at her _craving_.

She desperately wanted to reach into that bag, oh how she wanted to. Her hand was tingling for it and her mind was calculating every detail.

'_The purse has been sitting on that shelf for days,' _it said. _'This is the most out-of-the-way bathroom on campus. It's disgusting! No one uses it! Just a quick peak, Natalie! It's wide open!'_

Her craving was begging now, screaming at her to dig through the purse. But Natalie wouldn't let it win. She had been raised right. Natalie Murphy was not some scum-bag thief that went through other peoples handbags in the bathroom!

No matter how many times she said that, the urge was still there. It had led her to this bathroom a couple of times now. The moral, sane part of her wanted to give it to the lost and found office, where it would be out of her life, but she knew if she so much as touched that purse, the urge would win. It was taking all of her self control just to stand there with her fists clenched.

Natalie had had this horrible desire as far back as she could remember. When she was younger, she had constantly pick-pocketed other students, mostly bullies and jerks who seemed to deserve the loss of a couple dollars. She was surprisingly talented, as if she had learned all of this before.

Natalie had never actually been caught stealing anything, but her dad (a police officer) had constantly talked about how much the criminals he caught appalled him, especially thieves. He had taken it onto himself to ensure that his daughter never became like the people he caught, so he pounded into her head that stealing was _bad, bad, __bad__. _

Without meaning to, he had said he hated his only daughter's guts.

After a while, she felt horrified at her urge, thinking it made her a bad person. She resisted, fought back, even punished herself, but it made no difference. The more she defied it, the stronger it became.

Case in point, the Hand Bag.

Talking a deep breath, Natalie slowly stepped backward, away from the purse. That step backward actually _hurt, _somehow. It was like someone had lodged a giant hook into her stomach and was pulling her back to that awful, tempting purse. Biting her lip, Natalie slowly took another step back. The hook yanked again, and Natalie swore she felt her insides being ripped out. Where was the blood that should be spattering all over the bathroom floor?

No time to think about that. She was so close to the door. Her hand stretched out behind her, reaching for the cool metal handle. Another step, then another.

'_I'm so close! Just a few more…' _She thought, tasting rusty salt in her mouth.

As soon as she felt the cold door handle in her palm, Natalie yanked on it, speeding out and collapsing against the door frame. She was panting like a last place marathon runner.

'_Why?' _she asked herself. _'Why?'_

'_100 million…' _something replied.

'_What?! 100 million WHAT?!?' _Natalie almost screamed aloud.

'_100 million…' _Then that small part of her mind fell silent.

Natalie slid towards the floor and curled up into a ball.

"I must be insane," she muttered. A sad smile drifted across her face, floating on tears.

* * *

"… And that's what happened!"

The professor gave Aesop a doubtful glare.

"You expect me to believe that you were attacked by a pack of rabid squirrels on your way to class?"

Staring his teacher directly in the eye, Aesop mentally kicked himself.

'_Rabid squirrels__?!' _He thought. _'Who the hell is going to believe __rabid squirrels __tore up my assignment?!?! Okay, maybe she would have bought the whole squirrel thing, but saying I fought them off with a nearby plastic Spork? __Come on!__' _

But even as he gave himself the internal assault, Aesop smiled. He loved telling his ridiculous stories, even if they did get him into trouble.

Exactly why he loved doing that was a mystery, even to him.

The teacher sighed.

"Aesop, we've been over this. Your stories, while entertaining, have no place here in the World History course. If you're interested, I believe the Creative Fiction Course is in room 182 on the first floor,"

The room rippled with suppressed snickers.

Preserving whatever dignity he had left, Aesop said "Thank you professor, I'll look into that," and calmly walked to an empty seat in the back of the room.

"Well, now that that's out of the way, shall we start class?"

Turning to the giant blackboard, the teacher started to write something. What that something was, Aesop couldn't say. He was focusing on more important things.

Such as, where on Earth did that the rabid squirrel story come from? He had planned on telling the truth; saying he had forgotten about the assignment and apologizing repeatedly. But when the teacher had called his name, his heart started pumping and he couldn't think straight. Aesop had said the first thing that came to mind, which happened to be squirrels. The story just kind of flowed after that.

Just like all the other times.

Aesop sighed heavily. He had always been the class clown, in one way or the other. Part of him felt as though he was cursed to be the comic relief.

Fatigue settled into his eyes, pulling heavily on Aesop's eyelids. He laid his head on his arms, enjoying the dark solitude they provided. Now if only his nose wasn't bent against the table-top…

Turning his head to the side, Aesop felt his nose unbend with relief, but now light was fighting against his closed eyes. Oh, the pains of an in class nap…

After a bit of adjusting, his mind set off, drifting peacefully on half-dreams and memories; Glimpses of a ship, brief flashes of sea spray, and pieces of familiar laughter. Everything was perfect, all was right, he was truly happy for the first time in a long while…

'_She __will__ die,' _

Aesop sat up, his heart pounding, and breath coming in short gasps. Something had scared him… what was it? A voice, a face, it had terrified him, but he couldn't remember… It was gone now, vanished like a shadow in bright light.

'_What the hell… was that?' _He thought.

His teacher's voice cut through his thoughts.

"- tonight's assignment will be a 5 page essay about how the trade routes of Africa in 1670 compare with the trade routes in America at the time. Now these must be typed with 12 point font…"

The mention of homework meant class was almost over, and Aesop had accomplished a whole lot of nothing. He hadn't even listened to the lecture, let alone taken notes. Dreading the amount of research he would have to do later, he gathered his things.

"… and it's due tomorrow. Any questions? No? Good. Have a nice day."

"Thank you, Ms. Robin," Aesop muttered with the rest of the class.

He didn't know a lot, but Aesop knew this.

He was going to find out why he was like this, and he was going to find out soon.

* * *

Sam was leaning against a rough brick wall on the edge of campus, enjoying a long drag from a cigarette. He was glad that smoking was allowed on the grounds, even if it was forbidden everywhere else.

Slowly blowing a stream of smoke into the air, Sam let the corners of his mouth lift for the first time in a long while. It was one of those perfect moments, when all was grand with the world, the birds were singing, the air was cool, and a breeze was playing with his hair. Dewy air contrasted nicely with the smoke, filling his nose and mouth pleasantly. All was peaceful, all was quiet, and all (for once) was right.

Which meant his cell would be ringing in 3 – 2 – 1…

_Buzz – Buzz – Buzz – _

Yep, it never failed.

Groaning loudly, Sam answered, knowing that if he didn't it would just keep on ringing until he either turned the phone off or gave up.

"Hello?"

"Sam! Where are you?!? You were supposed to be here two hours ago!"

"I forget, what am I missing again?"

"You're missing one of the most important performances of your career! Do you have any idea how much financial support this could get the drama department??!?!"

"No, how much?" Is what he said. What he thought was _'Stupid crazy shit of a drama teacher, stupid damn minor, stupid f*cking persistent Dad...' _and so on and so forth.

"A LOT!!! You get your ass down here or you try to think up a way of explaining the big fat F you're gonna get to your parents!!" _Click. Droooooone…_

Sam had lost count of how many times he had gotten calls like this. Mr. Brian was the single craziest teacher on campus, and one of the few who bothered to e-mail grades to parents. Everyone hated him, but he kept his classes so busy no one had time to even consider dropping. Even the understudy cast got worked to death.

Cursing his luck, Sam shoved his phone into his pocket, kicked the wall behind him like everything was its fault, and stormed off.

If he had stayed about two seconds longer, he might have noticed the cracks spider webbing from where he kicked.

**End Chapter Two**

AN: First of all, no, they aren't as strong as they are in One Piece. It's more like a memory of strength. Their subconscious remembers being insanely powerful, so it influences muscle strength. If the actual Sanji had kicked that wall, it would have collapsed.

This is kinda-sorta taking place after the Alabaster Arc. I'll get to Robin and Chopper next chapter.

Speaking of later chapters, I need help. For those of you that have actually gone to college, do you think you could help a minor out? Was there an event that EVERYBODY went to? An impossible to miss gathering that even the lowliest nerd attended? I know what I need to happen, but I can't figure out what it happens _at_. Help, please!!!

Please hit the pretty button and review for me! Please!

-SCotS


	3. Chapter 2

Crossing Lives

By Aryashi

Chapter Two

Green Field University was located on the southern-most tip of the Alaska Peninsula, falling into a strange mix of mild summers and disturbingly cold winters. At this point in time, the fall term had just started, but the weather (untroubled by school names) hadn't decided to change yet. So the lawns were littered with students in shorts, t-shirts, jeans, and sweaters. The toughest of flowers still bloomed, but if one squinted, they could spot subtle changes in the color of some trees.

This mattered very little to a herd of reindeer in the mountains that rose sharply behind the school. All that was important to them was that the ground was still green, and fat was needed for the coming cold season.

The flock was eyeing a field of various greens with both hunger and apprehension. Was it safe? The entire massive group watched as the alpha male sniffed the plants carefully. He nibbled a bit of it, apparently examining the taste. Deciding it was safe; he dived in, the entire herd following as if on cue.

Well, almost the entire herd.

The smallest of the group still hesitated; pausing to make sure that absolutely every single other reindeer had started grazing. It was the only way to guarantee that he wouldn't start on a patch someone else wanted. Bad things happened when he started too early.

Seeing that there were no heads raised and no antlers pointed his way, the Runt began munching on his sparse, unappetizing section of the grove.

The Runt had known from the moment he saw the plants that they were good to eat. He had remembered them from the last time the group had migrated through these parts. But still, rules were rules, so he had to wait. It was really frustrating, sometimes. Why didn't the other reindeer remember them? Did they just follow the rules, to? If so, why hadn't the alpha remembered them? If he was the leader, he must be a lot smarter than him. The Runt pondered these things while chewing, barely tasting any of the plants. He should have been paying more attention to the greens in front of him, considering they were probably the last he would be seeing for a while. But it was all so _confusing… _

Just then, a panicked cry shattered the calm as effectively as a rock does a window pane.

"_Wolves!_"

What had been a still, serene meadow was now the picture of chaos and fear. Bodies were leaping every which-way, desperately trying to both flee and form a protective circle around the young.

Unfortunately for the Runt, he didn't qualify.

In the blink of an eye, he was alone, the rest of the herd already gone into the evergreens. He was without help, and if he was still here when the wolves arrived, he'd be dead. 

His brain and his legs seemed to be in the midst of a fierce battle, the brain screaming _'Run!' _and the legs screaming _'Freeze!'_

The legs won.

Even though it was probably the stupidest thing he had ever done in his entire short life, he stood shock-still, freezing like water dropped in liquid nitrogen.

And there he stood, his knees locked and his muscles tense. Every detail of the trees around him leaped into horrifying focus, every leaf on every branch taunting him.

'_Is it the wind that moves us?' _They teased._ 'Or a wolf we are hiding? Did that branch just snap in the breeze, or was it crushed beneath a powerful paw? __You'll __never know!' _They giggled.

Just then, the Runt swore he caught a glimpse of silver in the green, and that was all the leverage his brain needed. He took off like a bullet from a gun. Wind whipped in his ears, whistling manically, like the entire world was laughing at his efforts. His hoofs thumped into the earth, their tempo increasing with every breath the Runt managed to suck in. Green blurred all around him, the ground no longer any different from the trees and plants.

In his panic, The Runt failed to notice he was running down hill, in other words, the wrong way.

He could have sworn he heard something snap at his backside, felt teeth comb at his tail, a smelled decaying gore on something's breath. Whether these things were actually occurring or not, his fear made it seem as though he was snatching seconds away from death.

Panic can do that to you.

Suddenly his hoof slipped, and he was sent rolling down the hill-side, banging into trees and scraping rocks with ridiculous force. The Runt's world was a strange mix of green, impacts, and rushing wind.

He came to a stop on a long, twisty black clearing the Runt had never seen before. Slowly rising to his hoofs, he turned and nervously sniffed the air behind him.

Not even the slightest trace of wolf in the air. Not for miles.

The Runt sighed with relief, letting the fear and tension seep out of his burning muscles.

That's about when the red pick-up truck doing 30 came around the bend and crashed into him.

'_Funny,' _He thought, soaring through the air for the second time in far too short a while, _'I remember flying being much nicer than this…'_

Everyone who has lived in a city knows what it's like to be lost in a crowd. Swimming with the current or moving against it, soft warmth or sharp edges. A crowded room is different on different days.

Aesop was walking in-between currents, lost so deep in thought you could have dropped a bomb in the building and he wouldn't have noticed. His feet carried him through the school, ignoring where the still sensible part of his brain was telling them to go.

'_What scared me so much?'_ He thought, confusion dripping all over his face.

'_Who was that? And who was _"she"_? Why did she have to die?'_

He dissected that single phrase as though it held all the answers.

'_Do I know her? Was that a premonition? A memory? A dream?'_

A pause.

'… _Am I just going insane?'_

Aesop's mind filled with an empty blankness; his train of thought screeched to a halt.

After several long minutes, Aesop blinked and actually took notice of where he was. The crowds of students had vanished, replaced by a couple making out where they thought they wouldn't be found. Aesop ignored them, focused on the more pressing issue of having absolutely no idea where he was.

"Great…."

The hall was completely unfamiliar from all angles. By this point annoyance had been replaced with anxiousness.

'_I'll just keep going, find an exit, and get my bearings from there.'_

"All right, let's do this," he muttered to himself, starting forward in a determined stride.

The hall was pretty narrow and felt cut off from everything else. The florescent lighting flickered above him, creating such a cliché horror movie atmosphere it was almost funny.

Almost.

Aesop's overactive imagination was working overtime, creating serial killers with butcher knives and vengeful ghost soaked in blood to hide behind every door and corner. Just as he was about to start running, Aesop spotted an exit sign pointing around the bend.

'_Finally!' _He thought, sprinting around the corner and seeing the orange glow at the end.

Then he froze.

Sitting in front of the girls bathroom was a girl he had never seen before, knees pulled up into her chest and face buried in her arms. She wasn't crying, or giving off any obvious signs of distress, but Aesop could tell just by looking at her something was wrong. It was as though he could feel the weight of the world on her shoulders.

Normally, Aesop wouldn't have stopped, or even given her a second glance. He minded his own business and didn't get involved with the large majority of campus drama. But something was just… different. It was almost like he knew her, and leaving her in this state would be wrong on multiple levels.

So, instead of doing the logical thing and quietly making his exit, Aesop sat down next to her.

'_So now what?' _the cynical, realistic part of his brain said.

'_I don't know.' _And he didn't. But there was no doubt in Aesop's mind that sitting next to this girl was the right thing to do.

And then something just _clicked, _and he knew exactly what to do.

"Did I ever tell you about my two giant friends?"

There was no visible response, but he could tell the girl was listening.

"Bob and Dave. Both were thugs, terrorizing the townsfolk and generally causing trouble. The reason no one messed with them was because they were such a team. The two of them together could take on anything rival gangs and our modest police force could throw at them."

Green Field was a small town by anyone's standards, and while it wasn't exactly overrun with crime, lots of things went under the radar.

"So they came to me, asking me to send them running like I had other felons."

The girls head had turned now, one eye peaking out shyly from behind a curtain of red hair. Maybe Aesop was seeing things, but he could have sworn that there was a hint of a smile somewhere in that eye.

"But I had a much cleverer plan. See, I invited them on a fishing trip. They weren't naturally competitive, so I initiated a little friendly match. Biggest catch wins."

The girl was completely out of her arms now. She rolled her eyes, and Aesop smiled to himself.

"So naturally, they caught fish that were almost the exact same size. Bob was sure his fish was bigger, and Dave was sure his was bigger. They bickered and they argued, until one of them (I forget which) threw a punch. Tipped the boat over and sent us all into the water."

Aesop heard the girl make a noise that sounded a bit like a snort. He took it as a good sign.

"When we all got to shore, I could swear I saw steam coming off the both of them, they were so mad. They started to duke it out, fists flying, kicking, wrestling, throwing, sand-in-eyes, the whole deal. And you know who won?"

The girl stared, as though saying _"C'mon, tell me what happened next! Not that I _care_ or anything…"_

"Neither. It was a double knock-out at the same instant. So they decided to do it again the next day. 'Real men's fights don't end in ties' and all that."

He paused, making sure he had her total attention.

"That was 3 years ago. And every day since then, they have met in that parking garage over by the department store. You know the place, right?"

She glared at him, and he grinned apologetically.

"Anyway, every fight they've had has ended the same way. It's always Double Knock-out tie, both parties unable to fight anymore at the same instant. And you know the funny thing?"

The girl shook her head.

"They are still the best of friends."

"What?" The girl's voice was incredulous, and even more familiar than her face.

"Honestly! They get together and drink after their fights! You see, their fights aren't a matter of hate or jealousy. In fact, I'm pretty sure they've forgotten why they started fighting in the first place. Their fight is a matter of pride! They fight with all they have, but no malice pollutes the battle.

"I hope to be as honorable as they are someday…"

There was a pause, and Aesop wondered where that last sentence had come from. He mentally shrugged, and decided that the story would be incomplete without it.

There was amiable silence.

"You done?"

"Yep. That's the story."

"It could've used a better ending."

Aesop felt his jaw drop angrily.

"Well, excuse me! I take time away from my busy schedule to comfort someone I've never met, and this is the thanks I get? Sheesh, everyone's a critic…"

There was another pause.

"Thanks."

Aesop smiled.

Natalie didn't know this boy.

Or at least, she thought she didn't.

But everything about him was so _familiar._ The smirk. The story. The curly hair half-tamed under a bandana. The _nose._

It was like she had known him for years.

"Ice-Cream," she said.

"What?" the boy said, sounding extremely confused.

"I listened to that story and I didn't ask you to tell me it. You owe me ice-cream."

The boy looked dumbfounded for a second but quickly found his voice.

"That isn't how it works! You always pay the story-teller! And you criticized my ending! If anything, _you _owe _me _ice-cream!"

Natalie considered for a moment.

"Here's what we're gonna do," Natalie said, holding up a finger, "You get to chose the place, but we split the bill. Deal?"

The boy looked thoughtful.

"Deal. Want to go now?"

"You don't have any classes?"

"Well, the one I'm supposed to be in is half over, so it's kind of pointless now. You?"

She checked her watch.

"My class ends in ten minutes," she sighed.

"So… wanna go?"

"Sure, why not? But I want to know your name first," she said, standing up and dusting off her pants and back.

"Why?" said the boy, stretching.

"So if you leave me with the bill I can hunt you down," she said in a completely casual manner.

The boy stopped mid-stretch, looking dumbfounded again. Then he started laughing.

"Okay. Aesop."

"Pleased to meet you, Aesop. I'm Natalie."

As they headed toward the exit, both students could not help but notice that their names suddenly felt utterly _wrong._

**End Chapter Two**

AN: …. *Insert The Most Sincere Apology EVAR here*

That is all I have to say on my lack of updates. To further apologize, you get two chapters for the price of one!


	4. Chapter 3

Crossing Lives

By Aryashi

Chapter Three

Sam was in a foul mood. Drama had (once again) been murder, a strange combination of standing around and doing nothing and running around doing what felt like everything at once. Mr. Brian had (once again) run him ragged, and it felt like everything was still a hastily cobbled together mess that would look like crap on opening night. It had also lasted 3 hours.

So, yeah… he wasn't in a particularly pleasant mood.

But he had a new roommate to deal with, and if he was going to live with this guy, it was best to start on the right foot. He was at least going to be polite.

The first thing Sam noticed about him was the fact his hair was green. Not in-your-face, rock star, "LOOK AT ME, I'M SO GREEEEEN!" green; it was more of a mellow "Yeah, I'm green. And?" green.

The second thing he noticed was that even being near him gave Sam the most intense Déjà vu he had ever experienced.

"Hey," the new guy said, in a sort of "I'm saying this because I have to" way.

"Hey." Sam responded in the same tone.

"Names Zach," he said, sticking out his hand.

"Sam." Sam grabbed and shook, making sure to be firm in his grip, but lazy in the motion.

"So we're roommates?" Zach said, tossing his duffel onto the spare bed.

"Yep," Sam said. Then he looked confused. "Is that all you brought?"

"The rest is getting mailed. Cheaper than flying it all."

"Oh. Live far from here?"

"Washington." Zach had started unpacking now, tossing a couple shirts into the small dresser on his side of the room.

"D.C.?"

"State."

"Cool."

And the conversation died. The silence wasn't _awkward, _per say, more _wrong. _Sam knew somewhere deep down that quiet had no place between the two of them.

Not that the bit of Sam that _wasn't_ deep down recognized that fact.

"I'm heading out. Need help with anything?"

"Nope. I'm good."

"'Kay."

And Sam left, pack of cigarettes in hand and phone "forgotten" in his dresser.

'_Seems okay,' _thought Zach, settling onto his just-made bed.

And that was all his brain had to input on the matter before dutifully shutting down.

Nicole had always detested waiting rooms.

Not that it showed on the outside. On the outside she sat patiently in her dinky plastic chair, reading a magazine that was about a decade old. She smiled at those who looked her way, the absolute picture of a friendly, kind young woman.

It wasn't the sitting that bothered her. Nicole could sit so still while reading birds came to rest next to her. And it wasn't the old magazines (those were interesting in their own right) or the horrid waiting room brand of elevator music, or even the musty smell of a hundred pets.

'_It's the atmosphere,' _she decided, looking around. No one came to the Animal Hospital because they wanted to be there. The mood was dark, anxious, and maybe even a little fearful.

And for some reason, those emotions were all too familiar.

"Ms. Robin?" the nurse called, looking slightly bored. Nicole supposed dealing with 'emergencies' everyday would become boring.

She stood, leaving behind the waiting room, and following the nurse through a thick wooden door.

"How is he?"

"The reindeer? Stable, as far as I know, but you really should talk to the Doctor." She chuckled. "Gotta say, when you showed up with a reindeer in the back of your truck, a lot of people were _very_ surprised."

Robin made a noise that might have been an agreement and didn't ask any more questions.

"Here we are. The doctor will be with you in a minute."

Nicole questioned the reasoning of Hospitals. Why bother to take you out of the waiting room if you were just going to wait for the doctor somewhere else?

A few minutes later, a man wearing a white lab coat that had seen better decades and some well worn jeans walked in.

"Hello, Ms. Robin. I'm Doctor Bishop."

"Hello. How is the reindeer?"

He chuckled. "Not one for chitchat, are you?"

Nicole smiled. People had told her that she must have been Da Vinci's model in a past life; her smile seemed both warm and off putting.

Dr. Bishop took out a clipboard and began scanning his notes.

"All the ribs on his right side are bruised, and a couple of them are broken. Lots of fractures, but only one clean break. We had to go in and make sure it didn't puncture a lung. No spinal injuries, as far as we can tell, and all organs are stabilizing nicely. His left side is covered in cuts, bruises, and abrasions, but we washed them and they should all heal fine. Frankly, you're both pretty lucky."

"Myself as well?"

Dr. Bishop nodded. "This guys a runt. About a third of the size of the average reindeer. If he had been normal sized, his legs would have snapped while the rest of him crashed through the windshield."

"And I would be dead, along with him." Nicole said, emotionlessly.

The doctor glanced up at her, surprised she was so calm.

"… Yes. You would be."

"Lucky us, then."

There was a somber pause.

"May I see him?"

Dr. Bishop appeared hesitant.

"He's not looking too good miss."

"I want to see him."

Nicole had no idea why the reindeer she had run into was suddenly so important, but she knew that if she left without seeing him, she would regret it for the rest of her life.

"… Okay."

He led her to the back rooms. The rusty smell of old blood drifted through the air, ignoring the efforts of all the chemicals that tried to hide it. It was clean; so spotlessly clean that you knew unpleasant things had happened there. Necessary, perhaps, but unpleasant.

"He's in here."

Nicole glanced at the room the doctor had indicated. She frowned.

"He's still in Operation?"

"It's the only room we have that's big enough to hold him, miss. This isn't a very large facility. Biggest thing we usually have to deal with is a Saint Bernard."

Nicole nodded, and made a 'after you' motion with her hand.

Dr. Bishop pushed open the doors, leading Nicole into a white tiled, brightly lit room that stank of disinfectant. Resting on the operating table was the reindeer, shaved in some spots and bandaged in others, breathing deeply, but also unsteadily. The bandages looked fresh and clean, but Nicole could still smell the taint of blood in the air. He looked so fragile, laying there amongst all the cold and shiny steel.

It was odd, but Nicole didn't feel like she was looking at an animal she had accidentally run into. She felt she was looking at a seriously injured friend.

"_I'm sorry, Doctor-san."_

"What was that?"

Nicole looked up at the doctor.

"What?"

"Didn't you say something?"

"No, I didn't. What will you do when he's healed?"

The man looked at her as though she had just asked what color the sky was.

"We let him go, obviously."

"Into the wild? By himself? His heard must be miles away by now. Are you healing him so he can be a meal for the wolves?"

Dr. Bishop stepped back, surprised that this calm, controlled woman had suddenly turned so venomous.

"It's all we can do. I'm sorry."

It was sincere. She wished it wasn't.

Nicole turned her attention back to the reindeer. She had always been the level headed one, the one who stayed calm through all forms of crisis. But the sight of this broken reindeer, not to mention the fact it was her fault, was making her hurt in places she'd forgotten could.

Then the reindeer opened its eye; suddenly, as though awakening from a horrible nightmare.

She froze.

The reindeer seemed startled, but he was looking around. With what looked like great effort, he lifted his head and observed the bandages wrapped around his middle. Then he slowly turned and looked at her.

"_It's okay, Doctor-san. You can sleep."_

The reindeer seemed to sigh in relief, and then he lay down and was lost to the world.

"That was amazing."

Nicole turned, rattling some instruments on a tray next to her.

"Usually when an animal wakes up in a hospital, it panics. I was going for the morphine and expecting a fight. What did you say to him, anyway?"

"I didn't say anything to him," she said, confused and bewildered.

"Yes you did. He looked right at you, you said something to him, and then he went back to sleep. Was that Spanish?"

Nicole could feel her composure coming back to her, like water becoming frozen again.

"I didn't do anything like that. I don't even speak Spanish. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have an appointment elsewhere." Nicole said all this in a warm, almost friendly tone. A couple steps to the left and it'd be downright flirtatious. Almost as if she wasn't making a quick and mildly rude exit.

Just as the operating room doors were about to shut behind her, she paused.

"Doctor?"

He looked up, brows raised and questions in his eyes.

"I'll be back tomorrow."

He nodded.

'_He has good taste,' _thought Natalie, savoring a spoonful of vanilla and tangerines.

She and Aesop were sitting in a hole-in-the-wall Dessert bar in what passed as the "Bad" side of their small town. Normally she wouldn't have gone anywhere near this area with someone she didn't know well, but for some reason the idea the boy trying anything was absolutely ridiculous and had been dismissed almost as soon as it came up.

And the place wasn't one she would normally go, even with people she knew well. It was on the backside of a particularly small shopping centre, hidden from view and extremely shady looking. Once entering, however, she discovered an extremely clean (if a bit sparse) establishment run by a nice looking old man who owned it as more of a hobby than a business.

Natalie glanced across the small, café-esque table at Aesop, wondering how he discovered the old man and his small production. He was wholly devoting himself to eating his chocolate chip ice-cream cone, looking like he was making a very serious sort of game out of it. She was filled with a calming familiarity, watching him catch the melting treat with his tongue at every turn.

"You're very good at that."

Aesop looked up, but the majority of his attention was still focused on the dessert.

"Thanks. Years of practice."

Amiable silence settled in the spare chair at their table, making itself comfortable. Things stayed that way for a while, the only sounds being made by the eating of ice-cream, until Natalie decided enough was enough.

"So, what are you majoring in?" she asked.

"Engineering. Minor in Mechanics."

"Interesting. You like to build things?"

"Yep. I was always taking things apart as a kid. Drove my parents nuts."

He gave his ice-cream a large lick, flattening it into the top of the cone.

"You?"

"Meteorology. I don't have a minor."

"Lots of required classes?"

She nodded, spoon hanging from her lips.

"I don't want to go on TV and announce the weather. I just want to know more about it."

Aesop nodded, than bit a huge chunk out of his ice-cream cone.

"You don't seem the type."

"What's _that _supposed to mean?"

He shrugged. "I just meant you don't seem like the type of person who can put on an act for too long. Too real for that."

The silence coughed, shifted, and became awkward.

"S-sorry! Did I insult you?"

"… No. Not really." A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

He sighed with relief, than crunched the last bit of his cone with a great sense of satisfaction.

"So, going to the concert tomorrow?"

"Don't know. Maybe." She looked distant, but than some pieces clicked together in her mind, and what could only be described as a sadistic grin appeared on Natalie's face.

"Are you coming onto me?" she said, reminding Aesop of a cat who had just spotted a mouse. "Really, asking me on two dates in less than 48 hours! Have you no shame?"

"But- I didn't… I mean-"

"It's alright, I forgive you. But as punishment for trying to take advantage of an innocent young girl, you are going to pay the full bill." Natalie chuckled evilly, slightly on purpose and slightly not.

Aesop rocked back in his seat, gasping in a perfectly overdramatic way.

"Could this have been your nefarious plan all along?" His face mocked shock while his eyes laughed in ridiculous delight.

The act held for another second, than their laughter burst through and shattered it. Insane giggles belonging to children much younger than them filled the small dessert shop, attracting the attention of the owner reading a newspaper behind the counter. He smiled cynically to himself, marveling at the high of young love. Made him wish he was 60 years younger and glad he would never have to deal with that shit again.

**End Chapter Three**

AN: To all wondering why Zach and Sam's meeting wasn't more explosive, they have talked for a grand total of 5 minutes since being introduced. There is no way to piss someone you just meet and exchanged less than a hundred words with unless you were really trying. Which they weren't. Logic dictates you would try to have a good relationship with the guy you would be living with. But don't worry; nerves will be gotten on soon. *Grins and rubs hands manically*

And for the record, I don't ship Nami and Usopp. I just like to put them in scenes together because they interact well. I DO, however, ship Natalie and Aesop. … I can't help it! They're just SO CUTE TOGETHER! *Squeals in Fangirlish Delight*

As for Larry, I haven't forgotten about him. He just isn't doing much of interest right now. I promise he'll become very important later!


End file.
